


Aftertaste

by Sentionaut



Category: Nier Gestalt | Nier
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, Hermaphrodites, M/M, Twins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-08
Updated: 2013-09-08
Packaged: 2017-12-25 22:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/958612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sentionaut/pseuds/Sentionaut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A night of clubbing leads to a morning after, and all that entails. A contemporary take on the characters of NieR, and the drama that unfolds. YoKai for the win!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Past the Mirror

NieR is Copyright Cavia and Square Enix, 2010. All original characters are property of the author. This is a work for entertainment and no profit will be made. A fiction by Sentionaut.

_Cold_ , she shivered involuntarily as her feet crossed the threshold into the bathroom. Feeling around for the light, she blinked, grimacing as a long bulb above the sink flickered to life with a clinking shudder. _Real nice_ , she thought, running a hand through pale locks that stuck out every which way. Yawning, the young woman glossed over her reflection in the short mirror. She felt terrible, and didn't need the accompanying reminder, the ache between her legs was more than sufficient for the time being, as the more urgent press on her bladder also made itself plain.

_Toilet, toilet_ , the silent mantra echoed in the back of her head as the need that had woken her prodded more insistently through the fuzzy cloud that dulled her thoughts. Thankfully, the room was tiny, and relief in plain sight. Aside from a vaguely see-through shower curtain hiding the tub, and the washstand by the door, her goal was the only other fixture. By the time she finished, the light had warmed up, casting her shadow across the remaining empty space.

Sighing in contentment, thin pale fingers reached for the roll of paper and then the flush handle, manicured but unpainted nails clinking absently against the porcelain in the process. The sound was loud in the confines, made tighter by the closed shower curtain. Tiles sapping the warmth from beneath her toes, she padded out of the unfamiliar bathroom, flipping the light switch with a backward flick.

The room she returned to was dark, and it had only been luck that she'd stumbled into the right room in search of relief. She stood there, waiting for her eyes to adjust to the gloom, splaying her toes in the thick carpet to get some heat back. She'd been awake for less than five minutes and still couldn't piece together very much. A little bit of light was filtering in through heavy curtains across the way, revealing a vague picture of her surroundings.

Dark blue, or possibly purple, carpet piled thick across the floor, disappearing under a long piece of furniture beneath the curtains. It was either a couch, or some kind of lounge chair, from the short height. A taller thin shadow rose up to the left of that, a lamp, her mind supplied, starting to fill in the puzzle with bits of conjecture and slowly returning blotches of memory. Squinting, she suppressed another yawn that threatened to ache her jaw.

A bigger shadow took up most of the remaining floor space, a queen sized bed, mattress just off the ground. She'd woken there, so it clicked into place right away. There was less surprise in the bunched up landscape of sheets, _cool and soft_ , her skin recalled. The thicker shadow that splayed across the far side of the mattress was likewise familiar in some way. Likely the owner of the place, or so she hoped. The scrambled egg in her brain was already making things more complicated than necessary. There was no need to add further layers to the dispersing confusion.

The beginnings of a frown dipped her lips and she put a hand to the side of her head, willing herself to remember. But, the best she could dredge up was a sense of thumping music, colored lights and...soap? A familiar face tickled the edge of her memory. It was close enough to what she'd caught in the bathroom mirror to grab hold of. Light hair in disarray, usually tied back in complicated fashion, Nier.

She stared hard at the lump on the bed. It didn't resemble her brother's lanky form no matter how she looked. More pieces flitted into place. Yonah remembered they'd decided to go out for the weekend. A new club had opened up nearby, downtown. It only pulled rave reviews, and the cover charges were pretty affordable, even given how popular the place was less than three weeks after opening night. It was a Live house, too, with several local bands playing in the evening.

She'd been the one to drag her brother out, after seeing a flier for the club's Saturday night lineup. One band had stood out on the listing, _Shirayuki Project_ , a young, up and coming trio, two of which were rumored to be brother and sister, on the drums and bass respectively. The third member of the band played lead guitar, and provided the band's signature vocals. SP wasn't known for mincing words, and their songs cut into the audience with little regard, lent terrible credence by the throaty growls of the vocalist. It was one of the things that had drawn Yonah to the band in the first place. She hadn't missed a single of the band's handful of Lives.

Something tickled in the back of her head as she thought about the band, and the night's performance. She distinctly recalled getting a good spot, right by the club's short stage. It was the closest she'd ever managed at any of the SP concerts, though it wasn't the first time she'd felt the singer had singled her out of the crowd. She'd said as much to her brother, but her flights of fancy had been dismissed as such. Her brother was boring like that, more often than not. It was hard enough to get him to go along with her to clubs in the first place. He usually only went to 'keep an eye' on her.

It never ended up that way, though. Nier stuck to the bar, or hit the floor, more often than she did. Though to be fair, he also showed up 'randomly' whenever any of the guys tried more than just dancing with her. But, she just put up with it, as he had the motorcycle. Besides, he had his fun, and she didn't feel too bad for using him for transport, even if he scared off most of her potential dance partners. He'd also made himself scarce during the SP set, though she hadn't exactly been paying attention to him at the time, as far as she could dredge up.

While she was piecing things back together, the shape on the bed decided to mumble something about there being too much 'damn sunlight'. Yonah's breath sputtered and caught as the voice did more to kick start her hungover thoughts than anything else. There was no mistaking either the tone, or the near growl that formed into terse words. _Shirayuki_ , the young woman seized up, trying to come to terms with the gravity of the situation. The sticking point was why, exactly, she felt sore, in light of the revelation.


	2. Working up an Appetite

Kainé winced, flicking away a glob of suds that had caught her right in the side of the face. "The fuck is this, what a goddamned mess," she complained loudly, though her words were still lost to the sloppy mess of the band that had followed after Shirayuki Project on the club stage. They sounded like hammered ass, even separated by a thick wall, and the lead of SP knew just what sort of sound _that_ made. Kainé grimaced, catching up to her band mates in the narrow hallway behind the stage. The club wasn't exactly designed with catering to multiple bands in mind, but the owners had done all right in arranging the dressing rooms. She couldn't complain about that, at least.

The club had provided only cursory help in carting around the band's equipment, though it was mostly Emil's drum kit they had to worry about. The amps and speakers were all provided for, so that had been one less thing to drag around. Though it had meant a few wasted minutes, getting the audio to something approaching satisfactory. Kainé had been content to crank the volume and give the fuckers in the audience what they wanted, bleeding ears and crushed hearts. She ate that shit up, though the duo she worked with weren't quite so on board that particular train.

Not that those two didn't have their own brand of kink. Halua was a heart breaker of a different sort, and her brother hammered those drums like he was possessed. She could see the girls out in the crowd near frothing over it. Of course, they had a snowball's chance with the effeminate drummer. Honestly, Kainé wasn't above playing clean up, though that wasn't the case tonight. She'd been out there, again. Almost close enough to touch, had Kainé been so inclined.

Distracted, the tall singer almost ran right into Halua, the shorter bassist having stopped in the hall to allow the help to pass with part of Emil's kit. "Watch it, short stack, I almost rolled you," Kainé cursed, narrowly avoiding banging the neck of her guitar against the wall as she slid to a halt.

"Whatever, I can barely see where anything is with all this crap in my eyes," Halua shouldered her bass, and spat out a bubble. The club had elected to flood a good portion of the dance floor with thick soapy suds just after Shirayuki finished. Some crappy house tune had pumped out of the speakers to fill in between bands, and the bubbles had come pouring out of vents near the ceiling as the band had left the stage. But, they'd still gotten caught in the mess when one of the vents directly above had activated. It was a shitty design, and probably not supposed to have happened, though Halua didn't envy anyone taking the stage right after that. "That's going to get someone electrocuted, or worse," she said, not happy with the taste of soap.

"I think everything went really well. The crowd was on fire, and I didn't flub the solo this time, which is a plus in my book," Emil, the youngest of the band piped up, tapping his drumsticks against the open service door that his equipment was being carted through. "We killed it out there, right?"

"Yeah, it went pretty well except for that last part. Damn bubbles. I don't see the point, though I guess it doesn't hurt that our fans are all lathered up," Kainé grinned to herself, thinking of one soapy t-shirt that was deserving of some attention. "I might even go mingle a bit after we get stowed away."

"Really? When you're all sweaty like that? I just want to get back to the hotel and take a shower. It's not like we don't have another gig lined up this weekend. Plenty of time for fun tomorrow," Halua replied. It was true, the band had lucked out lately. More precisely, their manager had been working some kind of magic, getting them this kind of line up. "Seb's got us covered through the next month. We've never had this many shows booked back to back like this," the recently dyed noirette crowed.

"All work and no play is not one of my favorite sayings," Kainé reminded her two friends, though they'd known that long before forming the band. "Besides, I'm all warmed up," she said, flexing her long fingers, callused and aching pleasantly from the nearly twenty minute set they'd just finished. It was only three songs so far, but Emil and Halua were almost finished with the next two that would round out the EP they had planned, and would be debuting in one of their Lives next month, or shortly thereafter. Seb had scored them some studio time before the holidays, and if they buckled down, Shirayuki Project would have its first EP out by the beginning of the new year. It was fucking awesome, and Kainé was already thrumming just thinking about the recording sessions.

"Do what you want, just don't show up to practice blitzed like that one time," Halua reminded the taller woman. "I don't feel like buying a new outfit again so soon," she tossed a wink over her shoulder to show there was no real hard feelings about the mishap, as gross as it had been.

"I'll keep that in mind, short stack," the pale haired singer rolled her eyes at the light jab. "What about you, Emil? You pussing out on me too?"

Twirling one stick, Emil furnished his own familiar grin as the last of his stuff disappeared through the service door. "One of us has to make up for 'lua. Besides, I'm not blind like a certain sister, Kainé. I can be pretty useful, you know. And your little crush wasn't by herself out there," Emil said lightheartedly, though the smile he offered reminded the two women more of a svelte tiger on the prowl, than anything reassuring. "Besides, I could use a drink and a little something to eat, after all my hard work."

The dark haired bassist just shook her head. Emil adding himself to the mix was just asking for more trouble, and a sizable bar tab. Plastering people with drinks was her brother's idea of flattery, and it generally worked only once, and cost more than the effort was worth. Getting hammered was the only way to handle his terrible sense of humor though, and she usually ended up pitying whomever he'd set his sights on. Halua was legitimately exhausted, or she might have been tempted to stick around and reign in her brother's antics before he got himself socked in the mouth, in the bad way, again.

"You both do that, and don't come crying to me in the morning. I've got better things to do than nurse bruised egos," she snorted, and continued on to the dressing room to switch back to her street clothes, the leather and lace that was their band's 'look' may have been comfortable to people like Kainé, but Halua found it chafed in places she liked still having healthy skin. "Don't forget which hotel we're at, either," she said, leaving the two to their own devices.

"I know _exactly_ where my room is, thanks," Kainé shot back, heading after the noirette to put away her instrument. She, on the other hand, had no qualms about flaunting her already glistening flesh in the pulsing lights on the dance floor. Emil, as usual was decked to the nines in a black suit and tie, with assorted modifications to better mesh with the almost painted on look that the girls sported. He likely wouldn't see a need to change either, his boyish looks set off by the more refined attire, and the result certainly made him more recognizable as a member of Shirayuki. Truthfully, all three of them thrived on the attention they garnered, especially among their followers.

It didn't take long before the duo were back out in the club, hunting for a certain flavor to cap the evening.

* * *

Standing so close to the stage had been the highlight of her night. She could have sworn Kainé had been staring right at _her_ , but once the last song was over, it felt more and more like she'd been caught up in a fantasy. It might have had something to do with the rush of foamy suds that had dumped down onto the stage, a good deal of the mess splashing her right in the face before she could move. The crowd was still thick on the floor, and Yonah was caught in place, at least until the dancing started and she could slip back toward the bar between the gyrating bodies.

Doing her best, she worked her way out of the slippery writhing sea and into the relative stillness of the shadows at the edge of the dance floor. The bar was on the opposite end of the club, nearer the entrance, and she had to work her way around from the side of the stage she'd escaped on to get there. Nier was probably busy warming a stool, nursing a drink while he waited for her to show back up.

Her brother wasn't a big fan of Shirayuki Project, but she knew that was only because she liked the band so much. She'd caught her brother badly singing of their songs the other day, and had called him on it. He'd just brushed her off like it was no big deal, saying SP might have one good song.

It was surprising though, as the only recordings out where from Live shows, and all the songs that Yonah had were ones she'd made herself, back at the second show the band had done. They weren't the best quality, she would be the first to admit, and that had to have been what he'd listened to enough to memorize the lyrics, because he hadn't been to more than one show with her.

The other venues the band played at were much closer to where Yonah lived with her brother, either within walking distance, or a train stop away. The club she'd dragged him to tonight, Dream Hollow, was in another district, almost an hour away by train, so they'd taken the bike that afternoon, as she'd wanted to do some shopping first since they hardly came out this way, and the local stores were different.

Making her way along the under hang that ringed the dance floor, she avoided getting covered with more thick bubbles, having much less trouble skirting the one or two wallflowers. Up ahead, she could see the bend that curved toward the bar. Wiping as much of the mess away as she could reach, Yonah almost reached the bend when a hand fell on her shoulder, flicking a glob she'd missed. Surprised, the slim girl blinked, turning halfway to mutter a thanks that would doubtless be lost to the music coursing through the club. The words fell away unheard in any case, as she rounded on the owner of the helping hand.

"It's all in your hair, too. Though you might like to know," the woman said, lights from above the dance floor bathing half her face in flickering shades of blue and the rest in darkness. She stood nearly half a head taller than Yonah, which had the girl craning slightly up to meet her eyes. "Didn't think I'd find you so easily," Kainé favored the dumbstruck foam coated girl with an easy going smile. It was even more satisfying when the girl just gaped up at her, apparently gathering her wits.

The singer couldn't even recall the last time she'd had such an obvious effect on someone, though it made sense given how much of a fan the girl had to be to be sporting a bright neon shirt emblazoned with SP's unofficial logo. It was obviously a custom shirt, because the band hadn't put out any merchandise. It didn't look homemade, but that was hard to tell in the flashing lights. Kainé returned her attention to the girl's face, glad to know her gaze hadn't drifted too long. Honestly, she wasn't even sure if the willowy girl could hear her over the noise.

"You...you were looking for me," Yonah asked, more mouthing the question than trying to overpower the music. She only caught every other word, but it was more obvious when she considered that yes, the singer had noticed her from the stage. Otherwise, why would she be here, like this? The petite girl felt her stomach lurch nervously, but she fought to quash the sensation. She was never going to have this chance again, and she'd be damned if she embarrassed herself more than necessary in front of her idol.

The taller woman only grinned wider in response, catching the mood of the girl she'd set her sight on readily enough. Snaking an arm around her fan, she tugged her insistently back toward the throng. It was impossible to talk in a place like this, and there would be time for that later. Right now, she was more inclined to bridge the gap between the two of them, maybe get a little skinship going on the dance floor. Maybe after that, the girl wouldn't be quite so nervous around her. Kainé figured she wasn't the shy type either, given how up front she was about her taste in music. Fan loyalty needed to be rewarded somehow, after all. Especially when it came to the cute ones. "Come on, you look like you can dance."

Yonah let herself be pulled along. She wasn't enthralled with the prospect of heading back into the foamy nightmare, but that feeling was paltry when compared to the heat that flowed where her hand was swallowed in the singer's insistently firm grip. She felt herself smiling dumbly, and fixed her eyes on the lightly dyed leather corset that swayed and bobbed in front of her. This was really happening! Out of all these people, Kainé had picked her. The thought made Yonah light headed, as if she'd had several more than just the one drink earlier.

Around them, the beat picked up as the bands on stage switched out. There was little need to marshal coherent thoughts, and Yonah was more than content to let the music sway her, while body heats mingled. She found that the singer had virtually no concept of personal space, or pushing boundaries either, the taller woman's hands roving unchallenged. The pale girl was too caught up in the moment to care, though not so far gone as to miss the vibe that Kainé was implicitly giving off.

They writhed and ground against one another for two more songs before the smaller girl found herself sweating and breathless. She didn't come to these places just to dance very often, more inclined to hang out, and appreciate the opportunity to hear good music. Though she admitted that missing out on this would have been the biggest mistake of her young life. She wanted to take a break and maybe get something to quench her thirst, replace some of the fluid she'd lost to the throng. Judging from the flushed look on the spiky haired singer's face, Yonah wasn't alone in that sentiment. She inclined her head toward the bar, and turned to try and push back through to the side where the crowd was thin.

Somewhere along the way, Kainé had draped herself around the pink shirted girl, wrapping an arm around her waist, and keeping the few who'd tried to approach the short girl at bay. The rougher style of her outfit and the spiked collar around her neck were plenty of deterrent in their own right as well. It was a little less noisy the closer they moved toward the bar, and she felt her fangirl pull toward a rather specific direction.

It wasn't hard to spot their intended destination. A lanky figure sat at the far end of the bar, nearest the front door, tall enough that even seated, he was noticeable. Even from the side, she could tell he had the same feathery pale hair as the girl on her arm.

Kainé had seen him before, too, usually somewhere close by the girl. Probably her brother, given the resemblance. Currently, the young man, who was maybe a little older than herself, or close to it, was chatting with a familiar diminutive figure. The difference in stature almost made it comedic, and Kainé smiled to herself at her band mate's handiwork. Emil had the tall guy occupied, just like he'd promised. Not that it was going to matter now, with the girl making a beeline for the pair.

She wondered how this was going to go down. Normally, Halua handled similar situations when they were out and about, but her brother had no reservations filling in for his sister's role. Shirayuki Project was a triple threat in more than once sense of the phrase. None of them were ever hurting for company in light of that. Besides, it kept things _interesting_.


	3. Dream Catcher

_NieR is Copyright Cavia and Square Enix, 2010. All original characters are property of the author. This is a work for entertainment and no profit will be made. A fiction by Sentionaut._

* * *

Tossing her keycard on the table, Halua dropped unceremoniously onto the couch, boneless and dead tired. The hotel Seb had booked for the band wasn't the swankiest place she'd ever crashed in, but it wasn't a dump either. Space was still pretty much a premium wherever you went in the city, and they'd been stuck on the twenty second floor. Thankfully, the elevator wasn't ancient, and had deposited her without too long a wait. Plus, the building was just down the block from the club, making for a short walk and no need to waste cash on hailing a cab.

Rolling onto her stomach, she stretched reaching for the decorative pillow on the other end of the couch. It might as well have been on another planet, for all the good her straining did, fingers falling far short of the prize.

Resigned, she wriggled and scooted, doing a fair impression of an inch worm as she finally snagged the blue and green stripped pillow. It kind of looked like a candy drop, she decided, mashing her face into the cold squishy surface. Sitting up to get it would have been quicker, but sounded like so much extra effort. Gasping, the noirette turned her head once breathing into the cloth proved too difficult. It had felt nice and cool for a moment, until the moisture from her breath clogged the material.

She lay there for a long while, willing sleep to come, though she probably needed to shower, or at least finish removing the garish makeup that Kainé insisted they both wear while performing. Halua had taken off most of it back in the club dressing room, but she was pretty sure her eyeliner was now smeared on the pillow she was clutching. Maybe if she remembered to jam it behind the couch in the morning before they checked out, the cleaning service wouldn't notice and tack a laundering charge onto their bill.

Of course, Seb was footing the whole thing, so she didn't really care, too much. Though she tried to keep the band reigned in the few times they'd had to stay places other than their apartment. Their manager had ways of making his displeasure known, if they got too out of hand.

The personal budgets that they were allotted was already pretty pitiful, and getting it cut any further would be its own form of torture. She would have to go back to working for a living, or worse. Sebastian wasn't just the band manager, he was also the legal guardian for Emil and Halua. At least for another few short months. Then Emil would turn twenty and would be able to take over as administrator of the family finances.

It was a daunting prospect to be sure. One that Halua wanted little part in. Legally, she could already be handling those matters, but truthfully, didn't feel up to the task. It was far better to leave Seb in charge. The last thing she wanted was to ruin both their futures. Maybe when the band really took off, after they had a solid album out, she'd allow herself unfettered access to the accounts.

She couldn't complain about how Seb chose to handle the estate. Neither of the siblings had to work, and they'd finished school early, courtesy of an excellent private education. As things stood, the band was as much a diversion, as it was a career choice. She preferred the atmosphere they'd created, to sitting around the family estate just outside the city limits. It was boring there, and she had no desire to go into pharmaceuticals like her father had, even though chemistry was one of her stronger subjects. Or had been, once upon a time. For now, she contented herself with keeping watch over her brother in her own way.

Eventually, she turned on the television and left it on some variety show. The voices coming from the screen helped fill the silence in the room, and she sat up, peeling off her tank top. Tossing the dark balled up cloth to the side of the couch, she played with the remote for a moment, deciding to take a shower after all, especially with how her shirt had smelled of smoke and body odor. If her clothes were that bad, she could only imagine how she must be.

Slipping off her jeans, one leg at a time, she kicked them across the floor, where they folded around the base of a fake potted plant. She didn't feel bad about tossing her stuff around, as her brother put her efforts in that department to shame. Even she found it hard to believe half the time, and she'd lived with Emil for years on end. Usually sharing a room to boot. Neither sibling had been back to their parent's house in a long time, by some unspoken agreement. The memories were still too strong, feelings too exposed, not yet overgrown by time.

In the small space of the bathroom, she discarded her underthings beneath the towel rack, bra and panties one of her few matching sets, one she'd dubbed her lucky pair, though that was wasted on tonight.

Fighting off another yawn, Halua took a moment to check herself out in the mirror while the shower heated up. The edges of the reflection were already beginning to fog over. She teased at her bangs, quirking her lips at the dark color that still took getting used to. It was such a drastic image shift, even though her brother had elected to join in on the change. Of course, Emil being Emil, only dyed swatches of hair, lending his golden locks a bizarre series of highlights, not quite as dark as her own.

Dropping her gaze, she turned this way and that, thrusting out her chest, though no matter the angle, she was left with sadly little real estate. Like her sibling, she barely qualified as five feet tall, eking by on a paltry 156 centimeters. Kainé towered over them, in comparison, and crushed Halua's bust by a likewise overpowering endowment. Regardless, the noirette made it work. She was proportionate for her height, and wouldn't be having back problems in her future. Naturally, the singer held the sibling's height against them too, so it was hard to catch a break any way Halua sliced it.

Stepping gingerly into the almost scalding water, she hissed in pleasure, as the aches of the day were summarily burned away. Her pale skin glowed an angry red not a minute later, though that too was all part of the ritual. Hands resting on the cold tile beneath the shower head, she let the water cascade down on her head, beating a tattoo along the back of her neck, and torturing the top curve of her backside. It was almost as good as a long soak in a hot bath, but the western style shower had its perks too. A nice change of pace from the high tub in their apartment.

A good while later, once she was sufficiently roasted and scoured clean, Halua wandered back into the living room. Or what she'd taken as such, as the hotel room was arranged with the bed near enough that there wasn't a strict distinction between spaces. One long towel wrapped around her torso, she vigorously dried her hair with another, glad that she didn't have to deal with the length of tresses that Kainé sported. It was hard to tell with the elaborate ways the singer chose to bind her hair, but the bassist knew just how much of it there really was.

Lately, Kainé had taken to tying it up a different way for each show, some braids and tails more looping and sprawling than others. Tonight was a fair example of the platinum haired woman's penchant for experimentation. Kainé had put so much waxy product in the front and sides of her hair, that it all stood out in spikes and bunches, each a hand span or more in length. It was one of the few times that Halua was grateful for only coming up to the singer's chest. There was zero chance of getting impaled, or catching a rogue spike in the eye. A very real fear, given the half bottle of hairspray she'd seen in the dressing room trashcan.

In the midst of her routine, a series of knocks on the door caught her attention. It sounded like her brother, from the quick staccato hits. Glancing at the round clock above the couch, she guessed it was late enough that he might have returned, though it wasn't like he didn't have his own key card. The knock sounded again before she'd gotten halfway to the door. "Yeah, yeah, just a minute."

Making doubly sure of the knot holding her towel closed, she stood on her tip toes to peer out the peephole. All she could see was an unfamiliar mess of silvery hair. "Who is it?" She called through the door.

"Help me out, just open the door," came the muffled reply, but it was enough to tell just who was speaking. There was no mistaking her brother's pleading voice.

"Hang on, the lock's a pain in the ass," Halua said, straining to flick the bolt. She'd had her shoes on before, and the platform heels had really helped out, adding almost four inches to her height.

Unlatching the door, she was unprepared for her brother to come tumbling in, as he'd clearly been using it as a prop. Staggering into the room, he tripped on his feet and ended up sprawling on the carpet face first. His payload was less strategic in flight, and Halua found herself with an arm full of strange man, the owner of the silvery hair, no less.

The only consolation was that the guy was still conscious, so she wasn't hit with his full weight. But, Emil had been supporting most of that, and the sudden transfer was too much for her towel to withstand. It was ripped away only to twist around her legs and pull her backwards with the incredibly tall, and likewise heavy, stranger atop her exposed body. They landed in a tangle of limbs and she took what felt like an elbow to the stomach for her trouble. "The hell is this? Emil, I'm so going to kill you!"

"Sorry 'lua, he was really heavy. Guess I slipped. It was hard getting him down the hall from the elevator," Emil's apology sounded sincere, but muted as he'd gotten caught in the avalanche of limbs.

"Just get up and help get him off me, and close the damn door while you're at it. I'm not giving anyone else a free show here," Halua was livid, and if the shower hadn't left her looking like a boiled lobster, the faint embarrassment would have done the job just as well. "Hey, you, watch what you're touching," she hissed as the man pinning her shifted his weight and his hands as well, groaning really close to her ear.

"I was just trying to do Kainé a favor," her brother explained, extracting himself and kicking the door closed as he did his best to roll the weight off his sister. His very naked, and very angry sister. "I'm really sorry, I'll make it up to you, promise," flustered, Emil was torn between kowtowing and pulling both himself and his baggage further away from the impending explosion of justified anger.

Far from mollified, Halua snatched up her towel and pulled it tight as she regained her feet. "I'm getting dressed, but you better start explaining, though I can already guess if it has to do with our amazon," she huffed, already calming down, and shifting the mental blame to Kainé where it probably belonged anyway. Not that she would let her brother off the hook. She liked it when people owed her favors that she could collect on when it suited her best.

Emil swallowed nervously, managing to drag out a semblance of a smile. Sometimes that helped soften his sister's mood, but it could just as easily backfire. It was worth a shot, he decided. She didn't usually care about flaunting her body, and was just upset about having someone literally dumped on her. Emil only caught the edge of the weight, and his sister might even have a few bruises to thank him for in a little while. Both of them had sensitive skin and were prone to showcasing even the smallest injury.

"Well, you know how she's been going on about that one girl?"

Pulling on a pair of soft shorts that barely covered the top of her thighs, Halua dug around her bag for the loose t-shirt that she liked to sleep in. "Yeah, the one that's been following us," she nodded, pulling the shirt over her head when she found it. "Not that I'm complaining about gaining a loyal fan base. We could use all the support we can get."

"This guy is that girl's brother, Nier," Emil said by way of late introduction. The topic of their conversation stirred a little at hearing his name. He was sprawled out where the diminutive youth had managed to drag him.

"Okay, I get that. He's here why," Halua arched a brow, getting a sinking feeling in her gut at where her brother's story was going.

"Because it was the only way I could think of to keep him busy while Kainé entertained his sister. It took a lot less convincing that I first thought, though," Emil had the grace to look away and feel a bit embarrassed at the condition he'd put the girl's brother in. In all honesty, he'd figured with the guy's build, he would be able to hold his liquor. But, to the club's credit, the bartender was very liberal when making mixed drinks. As usual, no one batted an eye when Emil offered to pick up the tab a few times. Being a quarter foreign on his mother's side had its perks, small but useful.

"You drunk him under the table and just decided to bring him back here? You could have called to at least give me fair warning, you know," Emil's sister paced back and forth, finally dropping her rear onto the couch. She'd already staked it out, mostly because of crap like this that her brother pulled. He had his preferences, and she didn't bat an eye provided that he did the same. They were close, and she didn't deny that their tastes ran the same in a great many things. "I told you I was turning in early, Emil."

The young man winced, knowing he'd flubbed it with Halua. Normally he would have called ahead, just out of courtesy, but Nier had been really heavy, and he hadn't been expecting to have to drag a giant down a whole city block. If it hadn't been so late, he might have gotten all kinds of weird stares. "He wasn't supposed to pass out," Emil groused, frowning.

"What did you expect, when your go to plan consists of feeding people drinks until they follow you home? It's nothing but asking for trouble. Just toss a few blankets on him and we'll get it all sorted out in the morning. I don't think he's getting up any time soon, and I sure as hell am not helping you drag him any further. I might accidentally end up dropping him on his head for elbowing me. Still hurts, you know," she rubbed absently at her midsection where Nier had made the most contact.

"Halua."

"Be quiet and get him a pillow too. We're not sadists, like some people I could name off the top of my head. Kainé better keep a lid on it. These walls aren't the thickest, and I'd like to get a few decent hours of sleep. Tomorrow's another busy day, after all."

"Yes, 'lua," Emil acquiesced and went to fetch the requested items, bringing extra for his sister as well before flopping on the bed by himself. What a waste of money, he thought, rolling over to reach for the light switch. Another cold lonely night in the big city.

On the floor, the lanky guest stirred when the moonlight streaming through the curtains eventually fell across his face.


End file.
